Reclaimers: The Day of Discovery
by Undead Raptor
Summary: Humanity comes across the remnants of the Forerunners not in the 2500s, but in 2016. Results may vary.
1. Chapter 1

**April 7, 2016  
1,023 feet underneath southern Kenya**

"This is extraordinary," sighed Vera Lorenzo quietly. It was becoming difficult to concentrate on her footwork enough to prevent tripping over. Her flashlight's beam scanned the area, joined by the two beams from her companions, Professor Mark Fleming from Cambridge University and Émilie Houde from the International Union of Speleology. All around her opened the Maw, the nickname given to this magnificent cave system. The trio were in the largest of the tunnels, which was perhaps three miles wide. It gave Vera the impression of being within the belly of a gigantic whale.

Finding the Maw had been enough of a surprise anyway. It must have lain completely undiscovered for millennia, because three days ago a Kenyan farmer had been walking through his field when he put his foot through some hollow earth and found a small cave buried beneath. Using his own initiative he began to excavate the ground around it to find the entrance was far larger than he thought. A few people had ventured in and discovered something vast. This was what they found. A colossal system dwarfing anything Vera had ever seen before. It was full of oxygen so there must have been open entrances to the outside world somewhere, yet this palace had simply never been found, so it seemed. The exploring trio had clambered down an almost vertical incline for a good two hundred feet before squeezing through a narrow, winding tunnel which suddenly opened up into what Professor Fleming had said was "to caves what the Hall of Mirrors is to rooms." Vera had never felt so small before. The Maw was on a slow incline, gradually burrowing deeper and deeper beneath the Earth. They had just passed a thousand feet and it seemed unwilling to stop.  
"Do you think it'll go past two thousand?" asked Émilie excitedly.  
"God I hope so," Fleming had said with poorly hidden glee. It was entirely possible that this was the deepest cave system on the planet. Just as Fleming said it, he slipped on a smooth rock and nearly fell.  
"Watch yourself," Vera said quickly as she grabbed him by the arm to help keep him steady. Fleming stopped walking, instead just looking around once again.  
"I'm never gonna get over this," he said, shaking his head and grinning so hard his face was practically making new creases. Vera smiled.  
"Beats school," she muttered slyly. She was his top student at Cambridge, and thus at the top of his list when the IUS suggested he bring someone along for the ride. Being the only trained medic also gave her brownie points.

The cave didn't go past two thousand feet. It went past six thousand. After forty minutes of walking the group had passed the mile mark. If it weren't for their flashlights and the glowing markers they were dropping every twenty seconds to find their way back, it'd be pitch black.  
"If this keeps going much longer we'll become the deepest humans in history," muttered Émilie. It didn't show any sign of stopping; the structure of the tunnel was unchanged and it kept diving deeper and deeper.  
"If I didn't know better I'd say this tunnel was artificial," remarked Vera.  
"What do you mean?" asked Fleming.  
"Take the biggest drill in the world, stick it in the ground, and turn it on. You'll have a hole that looks a lot like this one," Vera replied.  
"I never knew the Bantu expansion involved giant drills," joked Fleming. He was starting to pant. Vera was running low on water; she didn't have the energy to laugh at Fleming's retort. Émilie stopped, catching her breath.  
"We might have to turn back if this keeps going, I don't want to step over an edge and fall into the mantle."  
"Don't be dramatic, sweet," joked Vera, patting Émilie's back. They soldiered on.

It was another fifteen minutes before something happened.  
"Do you see that?" asked Fleming, suddenly sounding alarmed. He shone his flashlight directly ahead. It was reflecting off something, something which glinted like metal. The other two moved their flashlights towards it, only to brush over more of the shiny material. Roving their beams all across they were quick to realise that the tunnel had suddenly ended. They were facing a huge wall which seemed to be made entirely out of stainless steel.  
"What the hell is this…?" said Fleming slowly, stepping closer. Vera picked up one of the glowing markers from her bag and threw it ahead of herself. As it flew through the air it spread brilliant green light in all directions, before bouncing off the wall and shining it.  
"We've made a discovery," said Vera quietly. The three practically ran towards the wall. Once they were within touching distance they stopped, almost afraid to do anything. Finally, after the longest of pauses, Fleming stepped towards the wall and examined it, shining his torch upon it. It was covered in grooves, strait lines which only went perfectly vertically or horizontally, yet beyond that seemed to be in a rather random pattern. Fleming was breathing slowly. They all were. Fleming turned to look at Vera.  
"I bet you're glad you didn't go to Harvard now," he said, smiling. Vera was relieved to have the tensions broken, but that relief drained as Fleming reached to put his hand on the wall. She had no idea what might happen. Her head was spinning, as she was overtaken by the same sensation as when one stands up when the body doesn't expect it. Fleming's hand pressed against the wall, and nothing happened. "It's smooth…" he muttered. "This is artificial. No question." Then, lights.

Within the grooves of the metal, beginning where Fleming had placed his hand, blue light began to shine. Fleming instinctively took several steps back, as the three watched the blue light quickly spread through the metal's grooves from where it had begun, slicing through the metal until it shone from end to end, lighting up the whole cavern.  
"I've walked into fucking _Prometheus_ ," remarked Émilie.  
Before anyone could reply, in the very centre of the wall the lights began to converge to form a rectangle. Within one quick movement, the material within this rectangle rose effortlessly and noiselessly to reveal itself as a nine foot tall door. White light poured out, blinding the trio to what was inside. No words were exchanged between the three. Vera's heart was in her mouth. Yet in unison all three stepped towards the door, despite the pain which the light brought to their eyes, and the destiny of their entire race was sealed.

Gradually, Vera's eyes grew used to the light and she began to look around. They were in a hallway, but one unlike any she'd ever seen. It was inhumanely clean, a passage of silver metal broken only by straight grooves, lacking either colour or ornamentation. The corridor was vaguely triangular shaped, marked by arches which more took the form of the Chrysler Building than a simple, rounded arch. Perhaps five hundred miles ahead, after some twenty of these arches, there appeared to be an open room. Slowly, Fleming stepped forward.  
"No point dawdling," he said quietly. His mouth was dry. All their mouths were dry. Slowly they began to walk down the corridor, taking in every nook and cranny. The aesthetic was stunning yet forlorn, with the same blue lights from before shining from the bottom of both walls to light the way.  
"What've we gotten ourselves into?" asked Vera, trying not to stutter.  
"I think we're witness to the rewriting of everything we know about this planet, and our history," replied Fleming. He let his hand slide down the incline of one of the arches, his fingers stroking its smooth grooves. "I've never seen anything so beautiful. Don't tell my wife that." Finally, Vera laughed. It felt such a relief to do so. Eventually they reached the end of the corridor, slightly haunted by the silence it carried, to find the open room ahead. There were three more corridors leading in different directions, but in the centre of the room stood a circular table like object. It was filled with blue light as though it were a bowl holding soup. Fleming practically ran towards it, and peered down into the light.  
"Don't touch it," warned Vera. Fleming replied by touching it. He pressed his hand into the light, and nothing happened. But as he removed it he saw that an imprint of his hand remained, marked now by white light. All expected something to happen, and indeed it did.

From the ceiling suddenly popped a sphere. It was clearly made of metal, a bit bigger than a football, and had large holes in its sides and rear which allowed a second sphere within, glowing blue, to be visible. At its front was a single great blue light which Vera immediately recognised as some kind of eye. The sphere, still floating seamlessly in the air, made right for them. All three backed away until it spoke.  
"Comment puis-je t'aider?" it asked, its voice smooth yet clearly synthetic, putting Vera in mind of an autotuned singer.  
"A floating ball is speaking French to me, I'm losing it, I'm so losing it," said Fleming quickly. Vera was starting to agree, but couldn't get a word out before the ball responded, this time in English.  
"Oh, excuse me, I could only guess at your language," it replied apologetically. "I intended to ask how I may be of help." The trio looked at each other. Vera felt close to crying. This was too much. Just too much. Apparently it was worse for Émilie, as she suddenly collapsed. The other two snapped out of it and went to her, as the floating sphere also approached cautiously, perhaps sensing the fear of the people it had come across.  
"Is she okay?" asked Vera.  
"She fainted," said Fleming, not taking his eyes off the sphere.  
"I'm truly sorry if my presence is disturbing," said the sphere. It sounded sincere enough.  
"What… who are you?" asked Vera. She felt idiotic to be actually addressing this thing, but perhaps some conversation would help the massive culture shock that was hitting her like a freight train. She could feel adrenaline bubbling through her every vein.  
"I am 672 Eager Glass, monitor of this installation," responded the sphere.  
"Okay… okay, what is this… installation?" asked Vera, trying to ignore her shaking hands.  
"This is the Portal, which provides direct access to the Ark." Vera wasn't even going to try to interrogate Eager Glass on that.  
"Are we trespassing? Are you going to harm us?" asked Fleming, still knelt down next to Émilie, who was watching the floating Eager Glass as she lay on her back.  
"Oh my, certainly not!" cried Eager Glass. "My instructions are to assist you in any way I can. Speaking of which, are you feeling okay?" it asked, turning to look directly at Émilie. She nodded rapidly. "Splendid," it replied happily, and it turned its attention to Vera. "I see that you are rather confused, which is understandable. I am happy to provide all the information you require." Fleming slowly got to his feet.  
"Start from the beginning," he said, his voice a little more confident. "What is this place? Why is it on Earth? Who built it?"  
"As I said, this is the Portal. When activated, it will create a gateway directly to the Ark. The Ark is a facility from which the Halo installations can be fired simultaneously, while also providing a safe haven from their effects." Glass was talking about things which were going right over Vera's head. "All of this, including myself, was built by the Forerunners." Over the next twenty minutes, Eager Glass told them everything. The Forerunners, Halo, the Flood, the firing of the rings and the repopulation of the galaxy. Then he wrapped up with the biggest news of all.

"My creators, never to return, chose to bequeath all they left behind to your species. You were judged the best suited in the galaxy to inherit the legacy of the Forerunners. Thus the name they christened you with; Reclaimers."


	2. Chapter 2

**April 9, 2016  
Paris, France**

Considering its scale, this was the best kept secret in history.

Gordon McBean was counting down the seconds before he delivered the words which would change the world forever. It had taken a significant amount of arguing about exactly who would tell humanity what had been found in Kenya. The International Council for Science had been fighting with the Kenyan government for the right to announce, and it had nearly spilled into legal action before Nairobi backed down and let the scientists handle it. After all that, and not a single leak. Well, sort of. The world's media knew something was going on, something of massive importance. That was how the first ICS press releases had described it; "an announcement will take place at twelve o'clock of incomparable importance." President Obama had gone before the media at the White House to implore the networks to broadcast the announcement live, cryptically telling them that "they're gonna tell you something which will change the world forever." And so the networks had done so and were now waiting.

An enormous flood of reporters had swarmed in before the table, where McBean sat at the centre. Either side of him were the three people who had made the discovery, and the heads of the International Union of Speleology, International Union of Geological Sciences, International Council for Scientific and Technical Information, and various other experts were spread out along the table. Gordon kept looking at his digital watch, just waiting. He couldn't believe what he was about to do.

Finally, he tapped his microphone and the five hundred or so people in the audience fell mostly silent.  
"Well, thank you for coming ladies and gentlemen, to this extraordinary announcement by the International Council for Science," he began. Millions were watching on television, perhaps many more online. "As you know, we announced a major discovery which took place two days ago and which now offers to utterly revolutionise the way we see the universe, the world, and ourselves." Not too dramatic? "Two days ago, the two people to my immediate left, and the one person to my immediate right, Vera Lorenzo and Professor Mark Fleming of Cambridge University, and Émilie Houde from the International Union of Speleology, respectively, began the exploration of a previously undiscovered cave system in southern Kenya. This cave had somehow been hidden from human eyes perhaps since the dawn of time. It descended almost two miles underground." He paused, and inhaled. Here was the big bit.

"What they found was _absolute proof_ that alien life exists."

 **Mombasa, Kenya**

Mohammed Quraishi was fuming. Of course, he always was, but this time it was different. He was , sat on the floor of his shack, resting against the wall which he could feel bending outward and hoping to hell that it wouldn't collapse like last time, sending him tumbling into the street. He couldn't handle that happening. Even in this forgotten part of the city, the rumours were circling. Something about a discovery out in the wild. It certainly seemed that way; one of his contacts, in the city itself, had said the naval base seemed to be going on high alert. Then he'd gotten a text from one of the boys he was trying to recruit from Belgium, asking if he'd seen the news. Avoiding any reflection on the irony of watching a Western news site, he'd witnessed the chaotic scenes in France after some scientists had claimed… well, he still wasn't sure what they were claiming. He'd heard their words, certainly. They'd been repeated a thousand times by a thousand people. Apparently even Obama was gonna be giving a speech about it. But the idea that they'd found what they found, some giant structure deep under his homeland, and the implications it brought with it, shook him. It felt like a personal attack. No stone had been left unturned in the announcement. They'd talked of words and concepts he'd never heard together. It sounded like they were making up an entirely new mythology. The Forerunners, the Flood, Halo. All the world's scientific establishments were insisting it was real.

If it was, it threw every aspect of Mohammed's faith into question. He knew not what to do with that. But if it wasn't true, they were trying to destroy his faith. This was exactly the lengths the West would go to destroy Islam. He felt a surge of pride in his chest. He had it figured out. The West had made up nonsense and called it science before, all to discredit faith. They had so little shame they'd even try to destroy their own religions. That was why they'd invented evolution, to tear Christianity apart. Now there were the Forerunners, another lie to destroy Islam this time. Suddenly Mohammed stood, and began pacing. Everything was falling into place in his mind. The West would lie through their teeth about this so-called discovery forever. They'd only let the people on their side into that cave, people like Mohammed would never be invited in to prove it. They knew the word of Allah couldn't be destroyed by bullets or bombs, so they had to use faith instead. He knew others around him, maybe his own brothers in arms, would fall for the ruse. He couldn't let them win. Not this time.

Mohammed half-ran to his computer and checked his messages. It seemed he wasn't the only one thinking that way. Feeling vindicated he scrambled out from the shack and into the dirt-laden street, practically sprinting past crowds who seemed oblivious to all that had happened today. He came to the house of his friend, Abdul, and knocked frantically, threatening to knock down the door in the process.  
"Fuck me, I'm coming, damn," came a slurred British voice from within. The door swung open and Abdul stood, naked from the waist up, glaring at Mohammed.  
"Did you see the news?" asked Mohammed breathlessly.  
"What, you mean that shit about alien machines underground? Yeah I saw it, then turned it off," replied Abdul. "What of it?"  
"Well do you see the implications behind it?" Mohammed asked impatiently. "The implications for us?"  
"Yes of course, everyone does. Are you panicking or something? Have you gone weird again?"  
"No, have you?"  
"No."  
"Look, I've been talking to others and they all agree, this is just the West trying to fuck with us," said Mohammed. "Why else would they stick it in Kenya?" he asked.  
"Well… I mean, they could have said it was in Syria," replied Abdul, doubtfully. "That would have been far more on the nose, and I reckon they see discrediting ISIS as more important than discrediting us." Mohammed sighed.  
"No, Kenya's good," insisted Mohammed. "Kenya's still being touched by the jihad, but there's no civil war, not yet. Far easier to protect their lie." Abdul took a moment to think.  
"I suppose so," he agreed, stifling a yawn. "What's all this in aid of?"  
"We need to fucking expose it!" Mohammed yelled. People walking past on the street looked at him. Abdul watched them anxiously before grabbing Mohammed's arm and pulling him inside.

Mohammed immediately walked ahead of Abdul towards the kitchen, before turning and leaning on the counter.  
"I wouldn't do that, it's dirty," said Abdul. Mohammed ignored him.  
"What's the best way to get people to believe a lie, even a giant lie?" asked Mohammed. Abdul waited for him to answer his own question. "You repeat it, and repeat it, and repeat it again. Sooner or later people will believe anything. So we have to beat that lie _immediately_ , before too many people believe it."  
"Is that possible?" asked Abdul. He seemed a little less disinterested now.  
"For fuck… do you see any alternative?" Mohammed shouted. Abdul rolled his eyes. He'd grown used to Mohammed's outbursts. "Besides, right now no-one really believes it. Watch those morons on Fox News! They don't know how to process it!"  
"You watch Fox?" asked Abdul disgustedly.  
"So we disprove it before everyone believes it regardless. We know exactly where the damned cave is, after all."  
"Pretty sure it'll be crawling with soldiers now," replied Abdul.  
"Don't doubt Allah's commitment to our goals. This is a direct challenge to his authority. He will be with us in this battle."  
"I pray you are right," said Abdul quietly. Mohammed smiled. Raising an army was easy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Washington D.C., United States**

The President had spent his entire speech thinking he was being drowned out by the incessant clicking of cameras. Nevertheless, he was near the end now. He'd been just as affected by the discovery in Kenya as anybody. His faith had certainly taken a hit. Crazier responses were coming from elsewhere. He was surprised that Trump hadn't just denied the existence of any discovery, but instead he'd called for occupying the area containing the Portal before anyone else, like China or Russia, got their hands on it. If only he knew how many allies he had in the Situation Room. The President sighed internally. He'd been warned especially about Al-Shabaab. Kenya wasn't safe, not for something like this, and no-one trusted the Kenyan military to keep the artefact safe without anyone chiselling off bits to sell on the black market. One way or another, it had to come under international control.

That was a key word. International.

America certainly wasn't going to get any credibility if it swept in and took what was apparently the property of all mankind. No, Russia, China, even Iran and North Korea seemed just as entitled. The UN would have to be the ones in charge, in the end, until a new dedicated multinational body could be created. But for the time being, President Obama had his speech.  
"We have found our place in the universe. We are not insignificant," he said reassuringly. "We are the descendants of history's greatest civilisation. They chose us to carry their torch and, as their Reclaimers, we must." He'd practiced the words a thousand times but they still made him shiver. Then he delivered the one sentence this speech would really be remembered for, as it would give a name for this day which would echo through history. "The Reclamation is at hand."

 **Nairobi, Kenya**

"Who the hell does he think he is?" shouted another President. Uhuru Kenyatta had been overjoyed by the discovery near Voi. Finally, a way to bring Kenya to the very top of the world. Surely God was smiling upon the country. And now, to no-one's surprise, the world wanted Kenya's treasure. "Are the West not done stealing everything they find in Africa?" he spat. The Deputy President as well as the Cabinet Secretaries for Finance, Foreign Affairs, Land, and Defence were all sat throughout the President's office as were a host of suited advisors and staff.  
"Your Excellency, resisting them may be fairly useless," said the Foreign Secretary, Amina Mohamed, softly.  
"Tell me something I don't know," barked the President. "We've already got the army at the entrance to the cavern, but by God no-one, not even me, is stepping foot in there. I don't want them touching things they don't understand." The Deputy President, William Ruto, nodded as he leaned back in one of the office's nicer chairs.  
"We can't keep it locked down forever," he said. "The world is hungry for information. The army's already overstretching itself trying to keep sightseers from entering the zone."  
"Just shoot them," muttered the President. None were entirely sure how sarcastic he was being. They hadn't seen him in a mood like this before. The revelation had hit them all hard, certainly. Perhaps the President was dealing with a lot of personal stress, as well as newfound professional stress. "How I wish one of our own had found it. It could've been Kenya's little secret." He smiled. The phone on his desk went off and before it finished its first ring he picked it up. "Yes?" he asked. His face fell. "Send him in," he sighed. "The Ambassador is here."  
"Best behaviour," said Ruto slyly. The President glared at him for a moment.

The door opened and in walked the American Ambassador, the skeletal-looking Robert Godec, the only white person in the room. He extended a hand to the President and they shook.  
"Mister President, you're looking well," said Godec, as friendly as he could. He'd never had a more serious day in his professional life.  
"I've looked a lot better," replied the President, forcing a smile. "Take a seat, Mister Ambassador," he instructed more than offered, and Godec promptly did so. "Your President's speech was most enlightening about your country's intentions," he said sharply as he walked a circle around the seated cabinet members.  
"Mister Presi-" began Godec, but he was cut off.  
"Mister Ambassador," interrupted the President, "I already know what you're going to say. And the answer is no. Not in a thousand years." Godec simply watched him, already exasperated. The President stood behind an empty chair, which he was meant to be sitting in, and leaned across its top to face Godec directly. Godec glanced at the rest of the cabinet before turning his eyes to the President again.  
"Sir, with respect, this is the greatest find in human history." He said it very matter-of-factly. "Had you dug up some dinosaur bones or the skeleton of Seyyid Said, you could claim it as your own. Not this time. Not with this. It's just too important." The President glared at him.  
"Too important on what grounds?" he asked icily.  
"You know about the Forerunners, just like the rest of us. According to what was found, their civilisation is for us to inherit. Us as in all humanity. Not just Kenya." The President rolled his eyes.  
"That's what we were told, but until I hear that directly from the mouth of whomever is living down there, I'm planting the Kenyan flag right up its ass!" There was a collective intake of breath at the undiplomatic language. Godec flinched.  
"Sir, the Kenyan relationship is of great importance to the United States. We don't intend to endanger it. This is not an attempt at theft, just a recognition that we _must_ understand what's down there. We can only do that by pooling our scientific resources. It's not about making money."  
"It always is with you people," muttered the President, finally sitting down before Godec. "Please understand why I can't take you to be entirely sincere," said the President.  
"I do," said Godec softly. "I can't imagine this is harder for anyone than you, sir, considering the pressure. But just give the word and the United Nations can take over the operation, and perhaps we'll discover the secret to immortality by Christmas." The President leaned his head back.  
"The answer remains no. No, no, and no again. By all means send scientists, send researchers, but I will not permit southern Kenya to come under military occupation. Not now, not ever."

 **Just outside Voi, Kenya**

Thomas Rono wiped some sweat from his brow. He was running low on water and counting the seconds before the sun finally dipped below the horizon. His arms were also aching from holding the G3 rifle for so long, and its metal burned his skin at the touch thanks to the sun. Out in the distance across the savannah he could just about see a group of giraffes, apparently oblivious to the importance of where they were. The animals had already been mostly scared off after the excavation vehicles arrived. A large digger a few hundred yards away was in the process of scooping up and dumping down large bucketfuls of earth as it carved a path to the so-called tunnel they'd found. Thomas wondered if he could get away with moving a few dozen metres further ahead to the shade under the nearby tree. Tsavo East National Park had already been closed down to visitors, so perhaps it'd naturally become far less hospitable all of a sudden.

Thomas glanced at the private standing next to him. Around four hundred men had been deployed to the entrance to this cave, all standing guard in groups of two. He didn't know the private's name; they'd all been told to remove their nametags, but it didn't seem like such a heresy to strike up a conversation.  
"See anything back there?" he asked, gesturing with his head to the large yellow digger still dumping dirty onto a large, ever-growing mound of dirt.  
"Hmm?" asked the other soldier. "Oh, no, not really," he replied. His voice almost broke, and Thomas wondered how young he was. "Lot of rumours though," he said.  
"What've you heard?" asked Thomas. Maybe he could tease this kid a bit, if he got bored, scare him by pretending he'd seen the devil down there or something.  
"Just the same stuff everyone else has," replied the kid. "Giant buildings, deep underground, left by some ancient civilisation."  
"Do you believe it?" asked Thomas, smirking.  
"No idea what to believe, but I guess you don't send a battalion to the middle of nowhere for no reason," he replied.  
"I'll tell you what I heard," said Thomas. "I heard it's an alien ship down there." The young private shook his head.  
"Shut up," he muttered.  
"No I'm serious man," said Thomas. He was, at the very least, being sincere. "Some white folks went down there, from Europe, they went down and found it. Said it kept going for two miles then they walk in and find giant walls, all made of silver and gold, and filled with robots." The private looked at him, eyebrow raised.  
"Come on," he said sarcastically. "Think I'm an idiot?"  
"I'm just telling you what everyone knows, man," replied Thomas. "The people who built it, they were called the Forerunners. They were aliens who lived all through the galaxy. Apparently there was a war with another species and, rather than lose and let everything be destroyed, they built these weapons that would wipe out all life in the galaxy. They did it, then repopulated the planets and chose humans as the ones to continue their work."  
"What, and then just disappeared?" asked the private.  
"Seems so," replied Thomas.  
"I'll believe it when I see it," he said. Thomas nodded, and looked back out towards the horizon. The sun was starting to touch it, and turning orange.  
"I bet we're gonna see some crazy stuff from now on trust me."


End file.
